


All I want for Christmas

by PiperHG



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cousin Incest, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiperHG/pseuds/PiperHG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dominique Weasley has never loved Christmas. James Sirius is going to try and change her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Some Christmas fluffiness for my two favorite idiots. I was supposed to publish this under Christmas, of course, but things got in the way and well... Christmas fluffiness is good anytime of the year.

As had happened last Christmas, and the Christmas before, and actually every Christmas since her younger cousins had learned to state their opinions, Dominique Weasley was wakened from high pitched shouts coming from the first floor of the Burrow. All the Weasley children seemingly had inherited their technique of stating their opinions and their stubbornness from their mothers and grandmother and not from the paternal branches of the family tree, so that every exchange of gifts resulted in lively displays of joy or disappointment. This particular time, she could understand that little, cute Lily – who was an unsettling miniature of her mother – was trying to put her hands on the shiny new broomstick received from their cousin Hugo, who was making sure that all the neighborhood was aware of his disdain.

Dominique lazily stretched and laid on her back, her feet sticking out from the edge of the bed, taking all the time she could before joining the rest of the Weasley gang. She had never been crazy about Christmas day: it was undoubtedly an opportunity to refresh her collections of clothes and books and, in more recent years, to enrich her Gringott account but, now that she was sixteen, she was even less sure than before that these benefits were worth the torture: first of all, her cutesy great-aunties full of banal questions – _Dominiiiique! How tall are you? Have you grown up again since last year? And what about boys? You do have a boyfriend, don't you? Tell your auntie, sweetheart!_ \- and for Merlin's sake, _boyfriend_ wasn't a topic she was prone to address with her family that year. Definitely no. It wasn't actually a topic she was prone to address with _everyone._

And then there were the Muggle board games that no one else but she, her aunt Hermione and her uncle Harry could understand; Molly's suffocating hugs; Harry's trite anecdotes about the Second War and his school years; the hours-long meals and, last but not least, the  constantly screaming children...

“LILY! GIVE – ME – MY – BROOMSTICK!”

That's what she was talking about.

Dominique took a deep breath. She'd better not procrastinate any longer and just get out of her bed and prepare for the difficult day ahead. While she touched the floor with her feet looking for her slippers, her big toe painfully bumped into a sharp edge.

“What the hell...?”

She bent over and took a little packet from the floor. It was wrapped in a cobalt blue paper that had been cleverly charmed, so that the silver stars on it were shining like real ones. Making herself a mental note to search that interesting charm later, she tore off the package, intrigued by the lack of a Christmas card, and she found out one of those Muggle glass spheres full of fake snow that falls on a snowman or on that Nicholas guy... Except that, this time, there was no snowman or red-dressed man in the sphere. There were two little figures in their Hogwarts uniforms, a girl with long blonde hair wearing a blue and bronze scarf and a boy with tousled brown hair and the Gryffindor colors on him.

Themselves.

Under the sphere there was a folded sheet of paper, that she opened with shaking hands.

 

_Merry Christmas, dear Dominique._

_I spent many weeks thinking about what I could give you for Christmas._

_A scarf? You already own many of those, and it would have been a little... Impersonal, don't you agree?_

_A book? Same problems._

_A love runaway? I seriously considered it, but it would have been too complicated and it would have had too many consequences._

_Some kind of jewel? Banal._

_I wanted something to make you understand my feelings for you, to symbolise our relationship and to remind you of me when – too often – we cannot be close._

_Do you see those two? (Isn't he handsome, by the way?) Nothing can touch them, nothing can bother them. They are living in their own world, shielded by the glass and muffled by the snow. No sufferings, no disappointments, no fights. They live by themselves and for themselves, with no regards for the world outside._

_Here's what you are for me. When we are together or when I look at you or even when I just think about you, everything else disappears: I forget about school, about Quidditch, about our friends and family. I don't care about what they might think, or what they might do if they found out. There is just us, and to hell with the rest._

_I didn't realise what being happy meant, until you started giving me happiness._

_Well, I just wanted you to know this. And I wanted you to know that I'll do anything I can in order to keep our private world the way it is, and that I love you._

_Oops. Never said that before, right?_

I love you, _Dominique Weasley. And Merry Christmas again._

 

_Yours forever_

_James Potter_

 

It was the most beautiful letter she had ever read – and of love letters, in the Muggle novels her aunt Hermione borrowed her, she had read many; If she was the kind of girl prone to crying, she would have cried, and a lot. But Dominique wasn’t that kind of girl, and anyway it was already 10 am and someone would have come looking for her very soon. She hid the letter and the gift, she brushed her hair, put on her usual Christmas face – bored and a bit annoyed – and she got out of her room in the dark hallway.

“Ouch!” She had bumped into something, actually someone, who was now keeping her thigh in his arms.

“Good morning, sweetheart!”

“James! What the hell are you doing right out of my door? If someone...”

“Come one, no one is going to find anything, as long as you stop squawking!”

“I DO NOT SQ...”

“Yes, honey, whatever. Did you see my gift?”

Dominique swallowed, trying to calm down her heartbeat.

“Yes, I saw it” she eventually answered.

“And... Did you like it?”

She took a deep breath and put herself together, and as every other time, Dominique the Bitch came out. “It’s... Awful. I mean, a snow globe? What came over you? It’s a Muggle object, and it’s well known that Muggles don’t have a refined taste, and snow globes in particular are cheesy, do you think I’m cheesy? And I mean, well, can you imagine my mother? _Oh Dom, honey, where did you find this thing? And who’s inside?_ Did it seemed to you a smart gift? I...”

She was abruptly interrupted by a kiss. It was their first kiss since they left Hogwarts for the holidays and suddenly all the pieces – the fear, the anxiety, the secrecy, the overwhelming love she was feeling – found their place in the puzzle. She was home.  

After a few seconds, James moved away. “I’ll try it again... Did you like it?”

“I love you, stupid Potter”.

  
  



End file.
